


The Recluse of 221b

by BadWolf18



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Depression, Gen, Post Reichenbach, Return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf18/pseuds/BadWolf18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death is always harder for the ones who are left behind. Very AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Recluse of 221b

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first publication on here so constructive criticism if you can please.

It was so dark, I felt nothing.

  


For three years, nothing.

  


Some days I couldn't even see from the abbiss that haunted my every moment.

  


It doesn't hurt any more, it doesn't feel like a hundred white hot knives being stabbed and twisted into my very soul, it's worse.

  


I've become so numb.

  


There are no other words to describe how I feel but detached.

  


It's so cold in my serenely empty scull.

  


Mrs Hudson checks up on me time to time, I rarely notice her so maybe she comes more often.

  


I look in the broken mirror and find a husk of a man, a mere shell.

  


My eyes which were once so alive at the thought of excitement and danger now look old and tired.

  


My skin seemed to hang off my bones, and my hair, so filthy, overgrown and greasy that you can barely tell what color it is any more.

  


I need a shave but I can't really be bothered enough any more.

  


I walk out of the bathroom and my bare feet take me over to the sofa.

  


I carelessly plunk myself down and switch on the TV, Jeremy Kyle was on.

  


I switched it off.

  


Oh it hurts to think of him.

  


HIM.

  


I can't even think of his name without feeling like I will explode into tears.

  


I miss him.

  


I MISS HIM.

  


I NEED HIM.

  


WHY ISN'T HE HERE!

  


My thoughts were like those of a lost child.

* * *

  


'Are you sure you want to do this?' asked Mycroft to the 'dead man'.

  


'Of course.' I replied. He looked mildly unconfortable, I find some pleasure in the fact that I have chipped The Ice Man.

  


I still haven't forgiven him.

  


'You do realize that he isn't well? That he hasn't gotten over it? He's a wreck and I'm not sure you can fix him, I'm not sure anyone can.' Mycroft explained.

  


I knew full well of the consequences of my actions.

  


'I'll at least try to.'

* * *

  


I decided to read a book, maybe that will stop me thinking about him, at least for a bit.

  


As I started the first sensence I heard a knock at the door.

  


I could hear Mrs Hudson opening it when suddenly a deafening crashing noise shot up the stairs.

  


I went so see what had caused this when I found myself looking directly at a man who I thought was dead.

  


He seemed as shocked at my appearence as I did to his.

  


This was the moment I fell down the seventeen stairs of 221 Baker Street.

  


I was awakened by him.

  


I think I might be able to say his name now, just maybe, so I let out, in a tiny voice:

  


'John?'

 


End file.
